


The Perfect Solution

by mautadite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mautadite/pseuds/mautadite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a firefighter crouched on the sidewalk, trying to talk to a cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Solution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cleromancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleromancy/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a tiny tumblr drabble for a prompt (wherein Jon is a fireman and Sam owns a cat rescue), but it wanted to be a little ficlet, so I obliged. Shout out to Sisky for getting me to write this ship; I’ve been trying to for years. :) 100% fluff.

The scene, when Sam comes upon it, honestly isn’t a very unusual one: a grown adult, crouched on hands and knees, beckoning and hissing and making inviting noises towards a cat who seemed perfectly content to ignore them while remaining just out of reach. And this particular incident is taking place only a few houses down from the cat rescue that Sam runs, so it can’t be a coincidence. Really, the only strange thing is the uniform that the person is wearing. Aren’t firefighters usually better at this? 

After chastising himself a bit for the thought – _firemen do more than get cats out of trees, Samwell_ – he approaches quietly, pulling his coat tighter around him in the cooling autumn air. The cat has wormed its way into a hollow at the base of a tree on the sidewalk, and sits there grooming neatly. The fireman continues to whisper and beckon to absolutely no avail. Sam figures now is as good a time as any to intervene. He stoops.

“Um, is there anything... I mean, perhaps I can help?”

The fireman rocks back on his heels at the sound of his voice, and turns away from the cat. And... whoa. Sam swallows, feeling his palms get sweaty. Between that face and that hair and what he can see of his shoulders and arms, the man looks like one of _those firemen_ , the ones in the tastefully sexy calendars that middle aged mums and Renly collect. _Dreamy_ would be the word he might use.

“Oh!” The fireman seems to give a start when he sees Sam. “Um, yes, maybe you can help. You own the Purrfect Solution, right? Samwell, Samwell Tarly?”

Sam blinks, and nods.

“Sorry.” The man laughs, cheeks a little pink. “I was researching cat rescues, and yours came up as one of the best in the area, and there was a picture on the website...”

Oh. So apparently it had come in handy. Sam had been completely against it at first; cameras aren’t really his friends, and he didn’t want to put anyone off. But Gilly had insisted that it would give the website a more personal touch, that it was better for people to be able to put a face to the person who took care of the cats. He’ll have to tell Gilly he owes her one after all. 

“No, that’s okay, Officer. Yes, I’m Sam.” He wonders if he should offer his hand for a shake, but quickly decides against it. Still too damp. “And this is...”

“This,” says the fireman with a quiet grin as he turns back to the cat, “is Jenny. I swear, she likes me a lot when she’s not in one of these moods.”

“I bet she does,” Sam says solemnly, and gives Jenny a four fingered wave. She sneezes, and goes back to grooming her white-and-ginger fur. The fireman pssts at her a bit more, but she’s back to pretending that they’re cracks on the sidewalk. Sam hears a sigh beside him.

“I think she’s mad at me. I was planning to adopt her, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

He sounds as if he genuinely regrets it, as if not being able to take this cat in is actually weighing on his mind. Sam wants to assist every animal and person that crosses his path, but this guy, somehow, he especially wants to help.

“Here um... why don’t we see about getting Jenny to come along with us, and we can go back to the shelter and have a chat?”

“That sounds great,” the fireman says warmly. He gets to his feet, and offers a hand to Sam. Sam doesn’t want to seem rude, so he takes it, and lets himself be helped up. The man’s grip is gentle, but strong, and he ends up tugging Sam a little too close. Their noses brush for a half a second before the fireman quickly steps away.

“Sorry,” he says again.

“No, that’s okay, Officer,” Sam says again. He fights back a blush. Is that even the correct way to address firefighters?

“You can call me Jon,” he says with a smile, as if reading Sam’s mind, and claps him briefly on the shoulder.

It’s a casual touch, just a little friendly gesture. But Sam can’t stop thinking about it, not during the walk to the rescue, with Jenny safely bundled up in a scarf, not during his chat with Jon in his office, sipping coffees and talking about the fire that he’d rescued Jenny from, not while they walk around, taking a leisurely tour of the facilities, not while they write up the paperwork together. He’s still thinking of it when he says goodbye to Jon at the gate, and as Jon hesitantly asks if Sam would like to take his number, ‘just in case’. Sam is the strangest mix of bewildered and giddy, but he still nods. The wind is getting chillier, but suddenly he feels very warm.

*

Two days later, Jon is back to visit. Sam watches from the office window as he tethers a huge, stark white husky to the fence, and stands rubbing his ears and speaking with him for a few minutes. Gilly watches too, peeping over his shoulder as she snaps off her gloves. Skittles is winding round her legs.

“This is him? The one who gave you his number?”

Sam nods, biting his thumb nail. Jon’s not in his uniform today; he’s wearing khakis and a black tee and still manages to look like a male model.

“Well.” She elbows him playfully in the side. “What are you waiting on?”

By the time he makes it over to the door, Jon is standing there, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed in his pockets. He smiles when he sees Sam. Something tells him that it’s not something that Jon does all the time. Smile. But there’s a shy one curving on his lips as he says hello.

“I was walking Ghost—” Sam waves hello, and receives a cocked head in return. “—and I ended up taking a different route, and then I saw that we were in the neighbourhood, so...”

“You came by the see Jenny?” Sam guesses.

“Yeah. Her too.”

Oh. Sam tries not to let his eyes go too round. He doesn’t even want to think about how red his face must be.

“Well, um, come in.” He ducks his head, smiling, as Jon slips inside. He gestures towards the main enclosure, and notices that Jon is blushing as well. “I’m sure she’ll be really pleased to see you too.”


End file.
